The Boy from Lima Heights
by fitzybeag
Summary: Tito Lopez is a kid going nowhere. Will his cousin Santana and the rest of the Glee Club be able to change that? Rate & Review please 3
1. Chapter 1

Blaring radio and burnt toast raised Tito from the blissful depths of unconsciousness. Rubbing sleep-filled eyes, he threw off his blankets and pushed himself up into a sitting position on the couch. He could tell by the sounds and smell of the place that his cousin was starting up breakfast in the kitchen, humming away to herself. In a flat as small as theirs, you always knew exactly what was going on.

"Tito, you up?" she called, kicking the kitchen door open with her foot and looking in on her dozed little cousin.

"Jesus Christ, Santana!" he groaned, holding his head in his hands. "My head's pounding, take it easy."

"Take it any easier and Imma be late for school! What'd you think you were doing, getting messed up on a school night?"

Tito cocked an eyebrow. "I don't have school nights."

Santana sighed and tied up her hair in the cracked living room mirror. "Whatever. What you do with your life is your own business, but if we're going to keep up this arrangement, you can't keep coming home at three in the morning. I worry about you – you're only fifteen!"

Tito almost felt bad for her then. He had moved in with Santana and her mom last month, and all he seemed to have done was bring more havoc into her life. She already had enough on her plate with her drugged-up, emotionally unstable mom to care for.

Tito was about to apologize when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn't even need to check to know who it was. "I gotta go, Santana. I'll be back later."

"Alright, I've Glee practice after school so I'll be home late. Be careful."  
>With that, he trudged out the door in yesterday's clothes.<p>

Tito sat alone on the chain link swing, looking up at the derelict Lima Heights apartment blocks he had lived in his whole life. It seemed he had done a lot of moving between couches for a kid his age, but never once had he strayed from the blocks. They were the only world he'd ever really understand. In the blocks, you knew who to get on the right side of and who to avoid. In a way, the blocks made more sense than the real world. Pity everyone in them was insane.

Without warning, two heavy hands grabbed his shoulders from behind. Tito jumped a foot in the air, reaching for the handgun he usually kept tucked into his pants. It was gone.

Spinning around, he found his attacker doubled over in laughter.

"Relax, _primo_, relax! Man, you should've seen your face!" chuckled Alvaro, fanning Tito's gun around.

He was a typical Latin thug – tattoos scrawling out of his wifebeater and a face like sour milk. He was respected around the blocks as a big brother figure, but it wouldn't be long until the cops caught up with him again.

"You packing, Tito?" he said with a grin that took up most of his face.

Tito wasn't so amused.

Alvaro handed the gun back with a laugh. "Keep your eyes open next time you're getting mugged, alright? 'Cos next time it ain't gonna be me. Now – I believe we've some business to attend to."

They made their exchange so quickly an outsider wouldn't have looked twice.

Alvaro ran a little drug ring around the area, so he always a job or two for his buddy Tito. Tito didn't think twice about it, either. Money was money.

"So how are you looking after yourself, Tito? You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"And how about Santana? She still in school?"

Santana was popular around the blocks, but that didn't mean she spent her time dealing and drugging with the rest of them. Maybe that's why she was so respected – walking around in that bright red Cheerio's uniform with her head held high, not letting herself get sucked down into the poverty and hardship. She was angry a lot, sure, and she had a tongue sharper than a blade, but that was a better release than delving into a life of crime.

"Yeah, she's still up in McKinley. Probably the only Latina in the place."

Alvaro laughed away to himself and lit up a joint. "Let's go. I got business downtown."

The rest of the day passed much like the one before, and the one before that. Tito shadowed Alvaro around all the usual spots, picking up cash and dropping off supplies. They called in to Nardo's for a bit, had a smoke, then headed back to the block. Some of their friends were hanging around the yard for the evening, but for some reason, Tito just didn't have the strength, and headed home early.  
>Making his way up the vandalized, urine-scented stairways, he reached their flat on the 12th floor.<p>

Unsurprising, he arrived at the door to find he had no keys. Santana was at her little club in school, so she wouldn't be back for at least another few hours.

Slowly but surely, Tito began his trek across Lima, leaving the blocks behind him in the distance. All he wanted was a rest, but he supposed he'd have to earn that privilege first.

Plugging into his iPod, he let the smooth sounds of 2Pac flood his brain. He nodded along as he walked;

_You know, I wonder if they'll laugh when I am dead  
>Why am I fighting to live, if I'm just living to fight<br>Why am I trying to see, when there ain't nothing in sight  
>Why am I trying to give, when no one gives me a try<br>Why am I dying to live, if I'm just living to die._

No one got music like Tito did. Well, no one he'd spoken to at home anyway. Santana hummed to herself when she was cooking, but she rarely sang properly in front of him. He'd like that. His mom used to do that.

He made his way through the school entrance, which was now mostly empty, the steady stream of students having left an hour or two ago.

A geeky red-haired woman passed him in the corridor, slightly surprised at his baggy appearance.

"Can I help you with anything?"

Her voice wasn't accusing, surprisingly, like most white women who spoke to him.

"Actually, yeah. Santana Lopez?"

"Oh, sure. Santana's in the auditorium. Straight on and to the left."

He nodded thanks and the young woman scurried on.

Tito gently pressed an ear to the large double door of the auditorium. It was silent, except for a man's voice.

"Alright, this time we've got to step it up vocally, and really get into those steps, guys! From the top!"

The intro music cued and Tito could no longer contain his curiosity. He softly pushed through the doors into the darkened concert hall, taking a seat in the back row.

Onstage, a group of teenagers were getting into their starting positions for the number. Tito half expected them to be wearing ridiculous musical costumes, but they were just normal kids. Then, however, they started to sing.

A short brunette in the front belted out the lyrics to tune Tito didn't recognize, but he had to admit – she had some voice. The harmonies blew him away, and he found himself sitting there with his eyes closed, just soaking it all up.

Then another voice broke out into the lead. It was another girl, but this was different. She wasn't your typical preppy school choir voice. No, she had pure soul. Soul and passion. Tito was physically forced to open his eyes. And that's when he saw her.

Santana.


	2. Chapter 2

As the music onstage faded out, Tito found himself stepping up out of the darkness of the back row and down towards the stage.

Santana noticed him instantly, almost dropping her mic.

"Tito? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Watching. I was locked out."

The rest of the Glee club onstage exchanged baffled looks.

"What have I told you about coming over to my school? When I'm out, stay on our own side of town!"

Tito felt his face go red and his fists clench up into themselves. No one, not even Santana, told him what to do. "I'm fifteen, I'm not a baby!"

"Well stop acting like one!" Santana grabbed her school bag and took

Tito by the arm. "Come on, were leaving."

The short brunette climbed off the stage after them. "But, Santana, we haven't even rehearsed the –"

"–_Cállate la boca_, Racheal!" Santana yelled. Her rage quickly turned to embarrassment as she realized she had spoken Spanish. She never spoke Spanish in front of her friends. That was for home. Tito had just messed up her whole balance.

Dragging her younger cousin out of the school, they hopped the first bus to Lima Heights Adjacent.

Santana and Tito filed through the apartment door after a silent and uncomfortable bus journey.

Santana threw her bag on the couch, but stayed standing against the door – arms folded and head lowered.

It seemed they were waiting for the other to speak.

"'Tana," Tito began at last, "I know it must be hard for you, but you can't be so ashamed of where you come from!"

"Hold it right there, kid." Her fury was back, as strong as ever. "You know nothing about how I feel, okay? You have no idea how hard it is for me!"

"Maybe if you talked to me about it once in a while I would understand!"

She sighed heavily, and moved towards the grime-stained window. "I keep these places separate, ok?"

"Why? It doesn't have to be that why."

"Look outside that window, Tito. What can you see?"

He moved beside her and looked out over the gloomy landscape below. "The blocks," he answered, a little shakily.

"In the blocks have you ever seen anyone's dreams coming true?"

Tito thought hard for a minute. This neighborhood had raised him, and he wasn't a fan of bad-mouthing it for no reason. However, he was stumped.

"In Glee club, everyone's dreaming – colleges, careers. Because that's how they were raised – hope for a better day. This block? This block sucks the life out of people, dreams and all. So maybe I like to forget sometimes. Maybe I like to pretend I was born in a sweet little house in a sweet little neighborhood, with two sweet little parents who treasured me and told me that I'd do great. But what do we get? These gang-infested blocks? A big brother in prison and a mom who walks the streets at night?"

Tears sparkled in the corners of her big dark eyes, and for a moment she looked so innocent and vulnerable that Tito had to reach out to her.

"You have me. Neither of us have anyone else, Santana – that's just the way it is."

"I can at least try to make a change," said Santana, "Try to see a world outside of here. A world where I could be safe and raise my kids to see only the good stuff – not drive-by shootings and drug deals."

Tito lowered his head. He was a part of those problems and they both knew it.

At last, Santana wiped her eyes and straightened up, her defiant look returning. "You know what, this is stupid. I don't even know why I bother. I'm an idiot to think singing and dancing's gonna change anything."

She turned smartly and hurried out the door, before Tito could react.

His face turned stony as he sank down into the couch. Maybe his dreams were pointless, but Santana had worked too hard to give up now. He'd make it up to her.

Tito zipped up his hoody a little tighter as he awkwardly made his way up the McKinley hallway. He'd spent more time in and around schools over the last few days than he had over the whole year. School never seemed to really agree with him.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his way through the door labeled 'Choir Room.'

Tito was met with almost a dozen sets of burning eyes, staring him down.

The curly haired teacher from yesterday turned around too, looking more surprised than judgmental.

"Um, hi there. You're Santana's cousin, right?"

Tito nodded, suddenly feeling a weight clasping around his chest. The room remained in an awkward silence for a few moments.

"So," continued the choir teacher, "Can we help you with something, or are you just looking for Santana?"

"Santana didn't come into school today, Mr Shue," came a small voice from amongst the crowd of teenager. Tito recognized her as Brittany instantly. He'd seen photos of the blonde in Santana's room, though she'd never been to the house.

"Actually," Tito cleared his throat, "I'm looking for your help."

Santana kept her head bowed as she crossed McKinley High towards the auditorium for what would probably be the last time. She was dreading breaking the news to the others. Sure, she was a bitch to most of them, and she frequently expressed her disgust towards the club, but she'd be a fool to not admit that she loved them all. Even that Munchkin, Berry.

As she stepped inside the double doors and let the familiar darkness wash over her, she was surprised to find the stage completely empty. That was strange – practice was supposed to have begun over an hour ago.

Santana slumped down in the second row, feet up on the chair in front, waiting until someone showed up.

Suddenly, the curtains started to close, as if by magic. When they eventually reopened, the whole Glee club was assembled on stage, Mr Shue at the front.

"Santana," he announced, "There's someone very special to you who would like to say a few words."

He raised a hand towards the side of the stage, and on sauntered Tito, his head ducked a little. He grabbed hold of the mic before Santana could react.

"'Tana, I know we've had a lot of ups and downs over the years. You, like all of us, have got a lot of anger inside. I can relate, you know? You grow up in Lima Heights Adjacent, and you have to go through all this crap, but there it's just life. Then you come to a school like this, and you start to realize that not everyone had to go through what you did, and that just makes you crazy. But that's the way life is, 'Tana, and you can't let that anger control you. People love you for who you are. And that's what we wanted to show you – through all the fighting and the hurting, you're still unconditionally loved."

Mr Shue gave a nod, and the music cued.

Tito composed himself, letting the music wash over him until, until he launched into 2Pac's Unconditional Love.

"_Come listen to my truest thoughts, my truest feelings  
>All my peers doing years beyond drug dealing<br>How many caskets can we witness  
>Before we see it's hard to live<br>This life without God, so we must ask forgiveness  
>Asked 'Tana why I got this urge to die<br>Witness the tears falling free from her eyes  
>Before she could reply<br>Though we were born without a silver spoon  
>Our broken down TV, showed cartoons in the living room<br>One day I hope to make it  
>A player in this game<em>

'_Tana don't cry, long as we try  
>Maybe things change<br>Perhaps it's just a fantasy  
>A life where we don't need no welfare<br>Shit with our whole family  
>Maybe it's me that caused it<br>The fighting and the hurting  
>In my room crying cause I didn't want to be a burden<br>Watch you open up your arms to hug me  
>And I ain't worried bout a damn thang, with unconditional love."<em>

The rest of the club joined in on the chorus.

"_In this game, the lesson's in your eyes to see  
>Though things change, the future's still inside of me<br>We must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark  
>So you will always be in my heart, with unconditional love<em>

The song faded away into silence, and Santana found herself unable to move. "_Mano_," she murmured softly.

Tito hopped down off the stage, and let himself be engulfed inside Santana's embrace, zoning out everything outside of them.


End file.
